Painting by Claudia Fernety

Pisces Full Moon Reflections:
Faith, Reason, and the Truth
by April Elliott Kent

Yes, just when you thought it was safe to enjoy Sunday dinner with your ideologically opposite family members, here comes another — and, as Rob points out, breathtakingly vicious — election cycle. After a relatively mild campaign pre-game show, the hostilities that have smoldered on both sides of the political spectrum for years have again erupted into a full-scale conflagration. That’s why, at this Full Moon in Pisces conjunct radical Uranus, I recommend taking drastic, meditative action.

Everyone take a deep breath, and step away from CNN. Close down your internet browser. If only for a single day, eschew the steady diet of divisive nastiness that the media delight in dishing up. The breathless reporting of vicious gossip, lies, and slander are toxic projections of trickster Mercury/Virgo energy at its ugliest and least productive. Enter the Full Moon in Pisces and an opportunity to move toward higher ground.

In the chart for this Full Moon, the Sun in Virgo and Moon in Pisces are both in aspect to Uranus (whose keywords "change" and "maverick" have been enthusiastically embraced as political buzzwords) and Pluto (transformation… or toxicity). The Full Moon always presents us with an apparent dichotomy between two archetypes, represented by the sign occupied by the Sun, and the opposite sign, occupied by the Moon. When we take a closer look, we realize that while these two archetypes may approach a situation from opposite directions, they’re moving toward a common center.

The dichotomy at the heart of this Full Moon pits faith (Pisces) against reason (Virgo). Is "I don’t know — I just like him/her" a valid reason to vote for someone? Our Virgo instincts are outraged by such a notion, insisting that important decisions must be based on logic, not hunches. Yet Virgo’s annotated list of well-considered arguments and carefully researched facts does nothing to assuage our Piscean ache for something, or someone, to believe in.

As much as those who sneer against "hope" and "faith" would like to believe otherwise, these are vitally important matters to most people. They are, in fact, matters for which many people would give their lives, concepts whose power is utterly immune to critical thinking. If you doubt it, try reasoning with a friend who is madly in love with a complete scoundrel. She may agree that he’s a louse, but she hopes he’ll change. And so ultimately her decisions about the relationship will be made by her powerful unconscious — with all its hopes, fears, nostalgia, and unspeakable longings.

It can be frustrating when those around you, especially those you love, see life through a lens that’s different from your own. As an astrologer, I can speak from first-hand experience about cynical scientists and insulting skeptics. But as someone with many planets in Virgo, I also understand their point of view; to those who worship at the altar of rational thought, an astrologer must seem like a heretical ambassador from the loony bin.

The thing is, I worship their god, too, the Virgo/Mercury god of discretion, logic, and scientific method. It’s just that I serve another god as well — the Pisces/Neptune god that represents the mysterious interconnectivity of all things. I hope I would never sacrifice one of these gods for the other; I want them both vibrantly present in my life, and in the collective. I cherish my friends and clients who have the ability to think critically, but also the humility to acknowledge that much of our world is unseen, unknowable, and richly compelling. I treasure fellow travelers who share a heartfelt, passionate, inclusive, and uplifting philosophy of life, but who realize that ideals will never change the world for good unless accompanied by intellectual honesty and a strong work ethic.

So if Virgo and Pisces are, as I suggested earlier, taking opposite paths to the same destination, what is their common ground? Nothing less than the nature of truth — and like superheroes possessing separate halves of a magic amulet, neither one can discover truth without the other. Likewise, at this Full Moon we don’t have the luxury of taking sides in the reason vs. faith debate. If we do, we risk societal chaos (Uranus) or fatal spiritual "poisoning" (Pluto). The only safe road runs through the middle ground, along the damp, sandy shore between Pisces’ waters and Virgo’s solid earth.

Neptune and Pisces are astrologically connected to the world of film, and our politicians are like actors in a mythic tale of hope, cynicism, hatred, and inclusiveness, flickering across the screen of our collective unconscious. If we are sleepwalking through life, medicating ourselves against life’s unpleasant realities, we are almost hopelessly susceptible to these unconscious messages — whether they are wholesome or dangerous. This is where we benefit from the helpful checks and balances of Virgo, who points out the inconsistencies, distortions, and flat-out lies behind appealing façades. Neptunian idealism is a bit like sea water, you see: you have to filter it pretty thoroughly before it’s safe to drink.

But by holding up a mirror that reflects all of our hopes and fears, Pisces/Neptune also offers insight — not the incisive observations of our Virgo/Mercury faculties, but insights into what we hold most dear, which can help us form a vision of where want to go. Because this Full Moon in Pisces is so close to Uranus, these insights must be unsettling, even shocking, to wake us from Neptune’s trance. But in the end, we’re deciding which narrative to choose as our collective story for the coming four years. In order to choose wisely — to find our collective truth — we’ll need to be fully awake. And we’ll need every ounce of both faith and reason that we can get our hands on.

© 2008 April Elliott Kent
All rights reserved